


Like a Man Possessed

by st_mick



Series: Niffler [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: An unexpected pairing, And we're getting Alice and Steven to safety, But we are questioning suspects, CoE Day Two... if you squint, M/M, Tea with the Queen, We are NOT blowing Jack up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 00:32:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18728047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: With ninety seconds until the bomb goes off, Ianto has a plan.  Apprehension of the kill team is step two.  As they are questioned, he finds out about Alice and Steven, then gets them to safety.  In a serendipitous moment, he discovers that the prime minister has overstepped.  Tea with the Queen answers a few questions...





	Like a Man Possessed

“Get out, all of you,” Jack ordered.

“No!” Gwen shouted.

“Blast radius, one mile,” Tosh called from her workstation.

“Right now.  Get out!” Jack thundered, his fear for his team fueling his anger.

“It’s active,” Tosh said, her voice shaking.  “Two minutes.”  Not enough time for her to defuse it, even if they could get to it. 

Not enough time to get away, either.

Ianto grabbed the kit he and Jack had taken to the hospital that morning from his desk.  “Tosh, get us locked down.”  His voice carried that calm assurance that he had a plan, and it didn’t even occur to her to not follow his instructions.

“Get out!” Jack roared.  He couldn’t bear the thought of reviving to find his entire team dead.  Not again.  “Please,” he pleaded, desperate, now.

“Shut up, Jack,” Ianto said, though his voice was not as hard as his words.  He looked at Owen and Mickey.  “Help him lie down.”

Owen and Mickey looked at one another, then grabbed Jack and manhandled him onto the metal autopsy table.

“Ianto, I know you’re angry, but what are you doing?” Jack tried to joke as he struggled against the two men.

“One minute, thirty seconds,” Tosh called as the hub began its lockdown sequence.

“The children are chanting again,” Donna said.

“ _Stupefy_ ,” he said quietly, so Jack would know what he was doing.  As Jack lost consciousness, he looked at Owen.  “You may want to get some painkillers into him.  He placed a hand on Jack’s belly for a moment, his touch gentle.  Then he pulled up Jack’s shirts, grabbed the laser saw, and quickly cut open Jack’s abdomen.

“What the fuck, Ianto!” Owen shouted, turning back from his workstation where he was preparing an injection.  “At least let me…”

“No time,” Ianto gritted, his face grim with regret.  He held out his hand and performed the _accio_ spell.  The bomb was slowly drawn from Jack’s body and flew into his hand.

“Ianto!” Gwen screeched.

“Holy shit!” Mickey said, his eyes wide.

Ianto disapparated.  Within seconds, he was back.  “Tosh, whoever planted the bomb will be nearby.”  He was striding towards her workstation, practically vibrating with fury.  He found a rag so he could wipe Jack’s blood from his hand.

“Checking.”

Donna turned on her computer speakers.  The children were chanting, “We are coming back.  We are coming back.  We are coming back.”

Gwen was holding Jack’s hand as Owen closed up the incision and checked his vitals.  “I can’t believe you did that, Ianto,” she seethed.

“What would you have me do?” Ianto retorted.  “Let him chase us out of here so he could die alone, blown to bits?”  He shuddered.  He looked back at Tosh.  “We don’t have long before they realize it hasn’t gone off.”

“Less than half a minute,” Mickey looked at the timer.

“I’ve got them,” Tosh smiled grimly.  “There’s a food truck just outside the blast radius.  One occupant.  They have comms connected.  There are two more in an ambulance…”

“Bastards were going to take out any of us who survived the blast,” Owen fumed.

“Sniper on the roof,” Tosh pointed to a map that was showing the location of each member of the kill squad.

“Get down to the holding cells.  Be ready to scan for weapons,” Ianto said, studying the screen.  He counted seven, memorizing their locations.  Then he disapparated.

Seven _stupefy_ spells and five trips to the vaults later, they were all staring into the cell at the unconscious members of the kill team.  Two were dressed as paramedics, two as Heddlu.  The sniper, the one who had been in the food truck, and the woman were in plain black fatigues.  His guess was that the woman was the leader, judging by how she was speaking into her comms when he jinxed her.

“We need evidence bags,” Ianto said.

“Have a bunch, right here,” Mickey said, holding them up.

“Okay, then.”  Ianto opened the door to the cell and using several spells, he stripped each of the prisoners bare as the others put their clothing into the evidence bags.

“Should we put her in a cell on her own?” Gwen asked.  “Ianto, at least give them towels.”

“Did anyone bring the scanner down?” Ianto asked, ignoring Gwen.  “I don’t trust them not to have more weapons hidden on them.”

“Ianto, they’re naked,” Gwen rolled her eyes.

“Scanner,” Owen said, handing it to Ianto.

Ianto scanned the first man.  “Owen, he’s got a razor blade stuck in some sort of flap in his skin,” Ianto said, disgusted. 

As Owen stepped into the cell, one of them lunged at him.  As it turned out, all of the prisoners were awake, and they’d decided to try to make a stand.  But just then, several things happened, all at once. 

First and foremost, Ianto finally lost his shit.

It had been that kind of day, and he was over it, already.  Within seconds, all seven had been treated to the body-bind curse and were plastered to the ceiling of the cell, terrified and unable to move.  The wall between their cell and Janet’s was now transparent, and Janet was putting on quite a show for her favorite food-bringer.

Ianto pulled Owen to his feet and checked to be sure he was all right.  They stepped out of the cell.  “I’m thinking boiler suits and Retcon, after I question them,” he said.

“Agreed,” Owen said.  Mickey, Donna, and Gwen all nodded.

“Good.  I’ll get information from them, then we’ll give them a suit and Mickey bring them to you, Owen, and let you know how long,” he nodded towards the empty cell.

“Sounds good,” Owen said, pulling the bottle of pills from his pocket.

Ianto checked his comms and ensured that Tosh was recording, then strode back into the cell.  “Now,” he said as he shot his cuffs, “Where were we?” 

He raised a hand, and one of the prisoners sort of floated down from the ceiling before being pressed against the transparent wall.  Janet began looking at him as he tried to track her movements.  “I don’t think we need to stand on ceremony,” Ianto said.  He conjured a chain-mail glove and whispered, “ _Accio_.”  The razor blade flew from the man’s thigh and landed harmlessly in the glove as he screamed. 

Mickey slapped a bandage on the wound and stepped back, scanning him and confirming that he had no more weapons.

“How long have you known about Torchwood?”  Ianto asked as he stood before the prisoner.  His eyes went Cat-shaped and began glittering before shifting from blue to gold.  In a quiet tone, he told Tosh what he found as he probed the prisoner’s mind.  Then he gave him a boiler suit.  Once the man was dressed, he was taken to the next cell, where Mickey told Owen how much Retcon to administer.

It took several hours to question the six men, because Ianto was meticulous.  The first had confirmed that the woman was the leader.  It was her turn, last.  Ianto’s eyes were still golden.  “What the hell are you?” she gaped, getting her first good look at him.

“Nothing you need concern yourself with,” he answered.

“How did you disarm the bomb?” she asked.

“Who says I did?” Ianto smirked at her frown.  “So did you know that it wouldn’t kill him for good?”  He dove deep into her mind, and what he found disturbed him.  Dr. Patanjali had actually killed the elderly Chinese man in order to lure Jack in.  Then he had been killed, once he was no longer useful.  Johnson did indeed know that the bomb might not kill Jack permanently. 

They had some ridiculous idea that Jack’s immortality was tied to the rift, so they were going to try to destroy both, but then recover any remains and keep an eye on them, to be sure.  If Jack revived, she had a concrete truck waiting at Ashton Down, and she would just “contain” him, that way.

It took all of Ianto’s strength not to throttle the woman.  She was clearly a sociopath, far too pleased with her plan, with no concern about the suffering Jack would have endured.  He took a deep breath after relaying the information he had obtained thus far and looked for more information.

The beauty of legilimency was that there really was no defense, other than occlumency.  MI5 operatives received training on how to resist interrogation, but nothing in the way of psychic defense.  So there was no struggle, and Johnson was deeply rattled as Ianto spoke what he found in her mind into his comm. 

“It’s a team of eight.  The last one is staking out the home of someone named Alice Carter.”  He frowned.  “Someone Jack visited today.  Looks to be a personal contact.  Person of interest as a possible…” only Toshiko noticed the pause as he continued, “…love interest.  She has a child named Steven.” 

When he had found everything he needed – the blank page, the others on the list, the fact that the kill orders had come from Frobisher, that there was an alien threat, though she knew nothing more than that, and that was more gossip than what she had actually been read in on – he released her and threw the boiler suit at her.  “Tosh, can you find the one staking out the Carter residence?”

Within minutes, Ianto had the man stripped in the cell, and was questioning him as he had the rest.  Once that was done and the Retcon administered, the kill team was left sleeping in the cells as the Torchwood team returned to the hub to speak.

“How’s Jack?” Ianto asked.

“I dosed him.  He’ll sleep until noon, at least.  Will probably be mostly healed, by the time he wakes up,” Owen answered.

“No thanks to you,” Gwen grumbled.

“What would you have had me do, Gwen?” Ianto rounded on her.  “He would have blown up, if I hadn’t gotten the bomb out of him.  I knocked him unconscious, so hopefully he didn’t even feel it.”  He faced her down.  “What should I have done, since you think what I did was so wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she lost her bluster.  “It’s just that… God, a bomb!  And then you had to cut him open.”

“I know,” Ianto said quietly.  “And I’ve got to live with that.”

Tosh reached out and embraced him, and he looked around.  “I have to go get to Alice Carter.  Johnson reported back to Frobisher about her.  I’ll get her to a safe place.”  He rubbed his forehead.  “Gwen, I’ll go grab Rhys before I go.  Donna, none of them seemed to know about you or Mickey, but do you want me to go get Sylvia and Wilf, to be safe?”

Donna considered.  “I’ll call them and tell them to head this way.  If they’re being followed, mum will spot it, and we can get you to go get them, if that’s the case.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about the kill team?” Tosh asked.

“They’re Mi5, but they’ll be disavowed as mercs, now,” Ianto replied.  “I have an idea, but it’s not a nice one.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Mickey said.

“They planted a bomb that would have taken out the city center, and at least a hundred civilians.  It was midnight, but most of the restaurants were still open, after the concert at the Millennium Centre.  I’m thinking that just because the bomb didn’t go off doesn’t mean we can’t turn them in for a couple of bombs that did.”

“You want them to take the fall for Gray’s bombs?” Tosh stared, wide-eyed.

Ianto shrugged.  “It’s ugly, but them blowing up the hub and the Plass would have been worse.  Not to mention Jack having to come back from being blown to bits.”

“I like it,” Mickey said.

“It’s got my vote,” Owen agreed.

Tosh nodded.  “It’s an elegant solution, Ianto.”

“They would have hurt a lot of people,” Donna concurred.

They all looked at Gwen.  “Do we have enough to make it stick?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” Tosh grinned.  Then she looked at Ianto.  “What did you do with the bomb, anyway?”

“Took it to a field about three point four miles east of a little village called Brynblaidd.”

Owen started laughing, first.  Then Gwen, then Tosh.  Ianto grinned, then disapparated.  He came back five minutes later with Rhys, who’d had the foresight to have a go bag packed for him and Gwen ever since the last time he’d been locked in the hub.

Ianto handed his phone to Tosh, who handed him a burner from her emergency stash.  He hesitated, then asked for a second.  “Wish me luck,” he muttered, taking a last glimpse at Jack’s sleeping form before disapparating again.

When Alice Carter answered the door, the first thing Ianto noticed were her eyes.  She had Jack’s eyes.  He took a moment to recover, then spoke.  “Good Morning.  My name is Ianto Jones.”  He held out his credentials.  “I’m with Torchwood.”

Alice looked around, then grabbed Ianto by the tie and pulled him into the foyer.  “Bloody Torchwood.  What’s he done now?” she asked acerbically.

Ianto bristled.  He hadn’t had any sleep, he was still angry with Jack, he was fucking livid about the bomb, and he didn’t have the first clue who this woman was, though he could guess.  That Jack hadn’t told him about her _hurt_.  “He’s been trying to find out what’s going on with the children.  And now someone has tried to blow us up.  They know about you, so I would like to get you someplace safe.”

If his tone had an edge to it, his words had distracted her enough that she did not notice it.  “Is he all right?”  She asked, almost grudgingly.

Ianto sighed.  “He’ll be all right.  But how quickly can you pack a bag for yourself and your son?  I would like to get you to a safe house, since your identity was given to more than the man who was staking out the place.”

“There’s someone out there?” she asked, startled.

Ianto smiled coldly.  “Not anymore.”

She stared at him for a moment.  “All right.  You’ll do.  Give me ten minutes.”  She turned away.  “Steven!  We’re going on an adventure!”

True to her word, she had two bags packed and was standing with them and her son in front of Ianto within ten minutes.  He handed her the burner phone and asked her to leave hers and – if he had one – Steven’s behind.  As she placed their phones on the kitchen counter, she nodded to the bags.  “We have enough for a week.”

“If this isn’t resolved by then, we can get you whatever else you need until this blows over,” he promised.  “Now.  There’s something you both need to know.”  He looked from one to the other.  “Do you believe in magic?”

“Wow!  First aliens, and now magic!” Steven exclaimed, excited.

“Magic?” Alice looked at him dubiously.

Ianto conjured a flower and handed it to her.  “Magic exists.  There are wizards and witches in the world.  I am one of them.  Until we know why the government is trying to close down Torchwood, I am not comfortable leaving you alone in a Torchwood safe house.  So I am taking you to my grandfather’s.  He can keep you safe, and hide you in the wizarding world until this blows over.”

“Won’t that put him in danger?”

Ianto smiled.  “They don’t know about him.  And even if they find out, he can get you to safety in a place where they cannot reach you.”

She nodded.  It was a terrifying idea, to disappear into a community where no one would know where to find them, but… no one would know where to find them.  She found herself trusting this young man, who she knew to be her father’s lover.  “Okay.”

“Next thing you need to know.  Side-along apparition can be very unpleasant.”

“Wait.  Side-along what?”

Ianto reached down for their bags.  “It’s like teleportation, if you’re familiar with that concept.”

They nodded.  Alice looked bemused.  Steven was grinning. 

It was a very familiar grin…

“Each of you, take my arm.  Hold on tight, don’t let go.  One person has described it as feeling like being wadded up like a piece of waste paper, and she wasn’t far wrong.  But it won’t last long, and we’ll be where we need to be in a matter of seconds.”

With that, they grabbed onto his arms.  He was fairly certain Alice was going to leave bruises.  He turned on the spot, and in the next moment they were in Theodophilus Jones’ foyer.

“Taid?” Ianto called out.

“Who’s there?” a familiar female voice rang out, followed closely by the woman herself.

“Harriet?” Ianto blinked.  Then he blinked again. 

“Oh, dear,” she smiled guiltily.  “We were going to tell you, I promise.”  She looked to Alice.  “Harriet Jones,” she said, offering her hand.  “No relation.”

“Yes, I know who you are,” Alice said, looking at Ianto, who was clearly shocked to see the former prime minister receiving guests in his grandfather’s home.

“Theo, Ianto’s here,” Harriet called out.

 _Theo?_ Ianto gave his head a shake to try to get himself back on track.  He had suspected that the two had hit it off, but he’d had no idea they’d been seeing one another.  But why not?  Just because his love life was most likely in tatters didn’t mean his practically centenarian grandfather’s should be.

“Ifan?” Theodophilus came bustling out of the drawing room.  “How are you, Son?”  He looked at Harriet, then back, a sheepish expression on his face.  “We were going to tell you,” he said.

“It’s all right.  This is Alice Carter, and Steven Carter.  Alice and Steven, this is my grandfather, Theodophilus Jones.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Alice said, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Steven echoed, showing nice manners as he also extended his hand to shake.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Theodophilus replied, smiling.  He looked back at Ianto, expectantly.

“I need a favor.”

“Ask me anything, Ifan.”  Theodophilus looked at his grandson, who looked tired and at loose ends.  Then he looked at the woman, who bore a striking resemblance to Jack.  Finally, he took in the child, who did not look like his mother or Jack, but he did have their eyes.  “But we are about to have breakfast.  Come through and have some tea, and we will talk.”

“Alun!” he called, “Three more for breakfast.”

A house elf appeared with a pop and a tray.  Alice jumped, but much to her credit, did not cry out.  Steven said, “Cool!” and headed for the table, where Alun piled food upon his plate and encouraged him to eat.

Theodophilus led them out of earshot, but was careful to keep Steven within Alice’s line of sight, for which she was grateful.  “Now.  What has happened?”

“It’s to do with the children.”

“Yes, it’s happening in the wizarding world, as well,” Theodophilus said.  “Minerva has locked down Hogwarts.”

“Good.”

Ianto looked at Harriet.  “UNIT has been stonewalling us.  And last night, we found out that Frobisher in the Home Office issued a blank page on Jack.”

“What?” Harriet asked sharply.  “That’s not possible!”

“They killed him and stuck a bomb in his abdomen,” Ianto said quietly, feeling sick.  “It was mere chance that we discovered it, just two minutes from detonation.”

“What on earth did you do?” Theodophilus asked.

“Opened him up,” Ianto shuddered, “said _accio_ , then disapparated with the thing to the Brecon Beacons.”

“There was a small article in the _Prophet_ about an explosion out there,” Theodophilus said, nodding.  Then he patted Ianto on the back.  “Well done, averting disaster.”

Ianto shook his head.  “We were all there.  It would have taken out the hub, the entire team, and Jack would have had to come back from…” he let out a ragged breath, not wanting to finish the sentence.  Alice already looked shocked, and he did not want to further distress her.

Theodophilus reached out and grasped Ianto’s shoulder.  “But you prevented it, Son.  What happened, then?”

“They had a kill team ready to take out any survivors.  We got them into the cells and found out about the blank page, and that they were watching Alice.”

Alice was staring at them.  “You interrogated them.  Did you torture them?”  She sounded more disdainful that Rhi, and he hadn’t thought that possible.

Ianto shook his head.  “That’s not really what Torchwood is about.  If necessary, there are artefacts, and even drugs, but we don’t harm those in our custody, unless they pose an immediate threat.”

“That’s not the Torchwood I’ve grown up hearing about.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s the Torchwood that Jack has created, since he took over Three in 2000.  At any rate, there is a magical spell called _Legilimens_ that I was able to use.  Causes no harm, but extracts information.  As a personal rule, I try to only use it with permission, but this was a… special circumstance.”  At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged.  “They tried to blow up Jack.  And the hub.  And my team.  I take that personally.”

“As well you should,” Theodophilus chuckled darkly.

“What will you do with them now?” Alice asked.

“MI5 will disavow them, since they’ve been compromised,” Harriet pointed out.

“There were two bombings, back at the beginning of the year,” Ianto answered, knowing it was safe to share this information, though he normally wouldn’t.  But, desperate times, and all that…

“That is downright diabolical,” Harriet said, a small smile forming.  “Oh, well done!”

“Uncle Gray was sent into the sun, so no one was ever prosecuted,” Alice said nodding.

Ianto felt the color draining from his face.  Alice knew about Gray, and the bombings, and that day, but he didn’t even know about her?  He felt sick.

“Son?” Theodophilus noted Ianto’s sudden change in complexion.

Ianto gave himself a shake.  “But here’s the favor.  I don’t want to chance the government somehow finding out about any of Torchwood’s safe houses.   I don’t think they could, because Toshiko’s just that good, but until last night I’d never have thought the muggle government would try to blow us up, either.  Can they stay with you, until we can resolve this?”

“Of course!” Theodophilus exclaimed.  “Alun!”  The house elf appeared.  “Please mask the house and make it unplottable.  Right away.”

“Owls, Sir?”

“Hmmm.  Letters, but not packages.”

“Floo Network?”

“Remove us, but make it so we can easily get it set back up to communicate, if need be.  Every ward you can think of, as well.”

The house elf bowed and disapparated.

“Thank you,” Ianto said, relieved.

“Of course.  Any friend of Jack’s,” he smiled at Alice.

“Actually,” she looked from Ianto to Theodophilus.  “He’s my father.”

“Yes, Dear,” Harriet patted her arm.  Alun returned, handing the two women cups of tea.

“Ifan, I will reach out to Minerva.  If, in the unlikely event that we are compromised here, I will take them to Hogwarts.”

“Thank you, Taid.”

“That is only as a contingency.  They will be safe, here.”

Ianto nodded.

“I still don’t understand,” Harriet frowned.  “A blank page.  On _Jack_.  It’s just… not possible.”

“I’m pretty sure I still have some of his blood on my hands, from pulling the bomb out of his belly.  Believe me, Harriet, it happened,” Ianto tried to soften his snark, but his fatigue was pulling at him.  Alun handed cups of tea to Ianto and Theodophilus.  He took a sip and felt the warmth revive him, a bit.  He smiled at the house elf, who bowed and disapparated again.

“I believe you, Ianto.  But my point is, Jack is under the protection of the Queen.”

She was met by silence as the others stared at her. 

She huffed.  “Look, almost the first thing I found out about as Prime Minister was that there are a handful of people who fall under the protection of the Queen.  They are not to be touched, under any circumstances.  The Doctor.  Jack Harkness.  Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart.  A few others you wouldn’t know.  But a blank page could never be legally issued against them, for that reason.”

“But it was Frobisher, not Green,” Ianto pointed out.

She shook her head.  “Frobisher is a worm.  He would not do anything so bold without at least the tacit approval of Green.  Which means,” she gave an evil grin.  “Excuse me a moment.”

She left the room and when she returned, she was on her mobile phone.  “Yes, Christopher.  Can I be there at three?” she looked at Ianto.  It was half nine, now.  She could drive, if need be.  But he nodded.  She shuddered.  She hated side-along apparition.  “Of course.  Looking forward to it.  See you then.  Oh, Christopher?  I will be accompanied, but he is not a stranger.  Ianto Jones.  Yes, that’s the one.  Lovely.  Thank you.”  She rang off.

“That’s what one?” Ianto asked, unsure whether he wanted the answer.

“The pretty Torchwood one that sometimes accompanies Uncle Jack.”

Ianto groaned.  Great.  The Queen’s personal secretary had dismissed him as Jack’s arm candy.  Perfect.

“The Queen calls him ‘Uncle Jack’?” Alice looked amused.

“Yes, and she calls Ianto pretty,” she winked at him.  “That wasn’t Christopher’s description of you, just so you know.”

Ianto blushed, at that.

“Master?” Alun’s voice called out, sounding tentative.

They looked, and Steven was standing, still as a statue, staring.  Ianto ran and knelt before him.  In the next moment, Steven began chanting.  “We are coming tomorrow.  We are coming tomorrow.  We are coming tomorrow.”

Ianto’s eyes flashed golden, and he tried to follow the message.  He felt himself being compressed and pulled along an impossibly narrow passage, as though his brain were being sucked through a straw.  He felt flashes of things – his grandfather’s breakfast room, the attempted bombing, the fight with Jack – and he dug deep inside to find a quiet place, to shed those thoughts so he could find the source of the chanting. 

The ones with the straw, as it were.

When it was over, he heard a gasp.  The he heard Steven say, “Cool!” again. 

And then he fainted.

***

Jack came to slowly, his thoughts sluggish.  His stomach hurt.  What the hell happened?  It took several moments, but he recognized the sounds around him to be those of the hub.  From the voices, it sounded like everyone was there.  He sighed in relief.  Everyone was safe.

Then his eyes flew wide as he remembered.  “Ianto!” he called out, sitting up.  He immediately regretted it as vertigo swept over him, and he felt a sharp pain in his stomach again.

“Easy!  Easy,” Owen had him, and helped him to lie down, again.  “You’re all right.  How’s the pain?”

Jack was shaking his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.  “What happened?”

“Well, to start, Frobisher issued a blank page with your name on it.”

“What?” Jack frowned.  Then he grinned.  “Lizzie’s going to be fit to be tied,” he chuckled.

Owen let that pass.  “They thought maybe the rift was the source of your immortality, so they decided to try to take out both.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Jack exclaimed.  “And it would have torn the rift wide open.”  He shuddered at the thought.

“Yeah.  Turns out, Rupesh Patanjali was a sneaky bastard arsehole who had been tasked with infiltrating Torchwood.  The blank page had him moving up his timeline, though.  He killed that old man to get you to the hospital, then they killed him once you were there.”

“Jesus,” Jack sat up.  Slowly, this time.  He rubbed his face.  He looked around, but didn’t see Ianto.  The last thing he remembered was a spell heading his way, with a bomb still inside him and less than ninety seconds to detonation.  “What happened to the bomb?”

“Laser saw, _accio_ , disapparition to the Brecon Beacons.”

“Tell me he didn’t blow up Brynblaidd.”  Last he’d heard, some much nicer people had razed the village and were trying to rebuild.

“No, the campsite,” Owen smirked.

Jack shook his head.  “Where is he?”

“No idea.  We’re still in lockdown.  Tosh is working on overriding it, but it’ll be a few more hours.”

“He just left?” Jack frowned.  That wasn’t like Ianto.

Owen sat up on the table beside Jack.  “Once he got back from getting rid of the bomb, he had Tosh locate the kill team that was waiting outside.  He grabbed all seven of them, stripped them, questioned them, and then went for the eighth, who was staking out some… people of interest.”  He shook his head.  “He was like a man possessed, Jack.  We’ve Retconned the kill team, and he’s had Tosh set them up to take the fall for Gray’s bombs.”

Jack nodded.  He knew that even without him in the equation, Ianto would not have taken the attempted bombing of the team and the hub well.  He stood and headed up the stairs.  He kissed the top of Tosh’s head as he passed by her desk.  “Who are the people of interest?”

Owen hesitated.  One of the first things Tosh had done once Ianto left was unpack Alice Carter’s identity.  “Alice and Steven Carter,” he said quietly.

Jack’s legs gave way.  Owen caught him before he could fall and led him to the sofa.  “Ianto went to take them to safety,” Owen said.

“Gods and goddesses,” he muttered.  “I was going to tell him.  I swear it.  I was.”  And now, after that fight…  This was going to be just another thing to alienate Ianto.

Owen shook his head.  Then Toshiko spoke up.  “Why didn’t you, Jack?”  She came and sat beside him.  “We didn’t find out until after he left.  He’ll have figured it out, by now.  I mean, just look at her.  But I imagine it would have been a bit of a shock.”

“There’s just so much to tell,” he said, his voice pained.  “And she wants nothing to do with me.  She asked me not to say anything until she was ready to meet him, and I figured we’d get around to it eventually…”

Tosh didn’t answer.  “Jack, if you two are going to stay together, then you may want to figure out what it might be best to tell him, if finding out on his own is going to hurt him worse than hearing it from you.”

Jack nodded, miserable.  Then her words hit him.  “What do you mean, ‘if’?”

She shook her head and patted his arm, then went back to her workstation.  “We’re locked in for another eight hours, at least.  Maybe some more sleep would do you good – you look wrecked.  I’m working on getting past the Home Office’s firewall.  Should be there in a few.  We’ll brief you when you wake.  Try not to worry; you know Ianto will make sure Alice and Steven are safe.”

“I know he will,” Jack muttered.  He shuffled down to his bunker, where he fell into the bed.  “But who’s going to make sure Ianto is safe?”  He fell into a deep sleep before his metabolism could burn off the last of the meds Owen had given him.

***

“Jack!” Ianto bolted upright, the nightmare of Jack being blown to pieces still making him shake.

“Ifan, you’re all right,” Theodophilus moved to sit beside his grandson on the settee where they had moved him after he passed out.  He’d been out for more than four hours, though every spell he and Alun could use to check him had indicated he was all right.  Some sort of shock and exhaustion, was all.

Ianto held a hand to his head.  “What happened?” he groaned.

“We were rather hoping you could tell us that,” Harriet said.

“What time is it?” Ianto looked around.

“Quarter past two,” Theodophilus answered.  “We thought it best to let you rest, after what happened.”

“I remember trying to read Steven, to follow the message,” Ianto groaned as the memory returned.  “Oh, gods.” 

Alun appeared with a bucket just as Ianto began retching.  But he hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, so there was nothing to bring up, other than bile.  After Alun took the bucket away, Theodophilus mopped Ianto’s face with the cool cloth that had been resting on his forehead as he’d slept.

“Thank you,” he croaked.

“Perhaps some tea, to settle you?” Harriet suggested.

Ianto nodded.  “I’ve never experienced anything like that, before.”

“Well, I doubt you’ve ever performed Legilimency on a thought being passed through someone from another, before.”

Ianto allowed that to be the case.  “I followed it, but there was so much interference.  It took all my focus to stay with it.”

“Yes.  You shifted fully to your wampus cat form,” Theodophilus said.

“Oh.”  Ianto’s eyes flew to Alice.  “Sorry.”

She smiled kindly.  “Your grandfather has explained.  And Steven was actually quite impressed.”

“Were you able to confirm that they are aliens?” Harriet asked.

Ianto nodded. 

“Did they know you were reading them?” his grandfather asked.  He was sorry to not let him rest more, but time seemed to be of the essence.

Ianto shook his head.  “I don’t think so.”  He shuddered.  “It was awful.  They are… unpleasant creatures.”  He swallowed hard as his stomach threatened to heave again.  Alun brought him a cup of tea, and he took a deep swallow of the warm, comforting brew.  He looked sharply at Alun when he felt the effects of a rejuvenating potion take effect.

Alice watched him closely.  Her father had said he was with someone, now.  Actually, she’d never seen such a soft, happy expression on his face, before.  But she had been mean and vindictive, as her mother had taught her to be, when it came to her father.  And Jack made her angry, for so many reasons.  But something in how Ianto had described the thought of Jack coming back, from being exploded…  It had given her pause.

Jack had never asked for this curse of immortality.  And he had told her that now, thanks to something strange that Ianto had done – he hadn’t gone into detail, but now she suspected that it had something to do with magic – he was no longer destined to live forever.  He’d been so happy when he’d told her that… It had finally dawned on her just what a curse that would have been, for him.

So even though it still freaked her out that her father looked a decade younger than her, and his lover two decades younger, she could see that it had been a mistake to demand that Jack not tell Ianto about her and Steven.  She had seen the hurt in Ianto’s eyes when she had admitted it, though he had not seemed a bit surprised.

“I owe you an apology,” she said quietly.

Ianto looked at her, surprised.

“I asked Dad not to tell you about Steven and me.  I… I thought I wasn’t ready to meet you, yet.”  She hesitated.  “And… I wanted to hurt him.”

Ianto just looked at her, but his expression was more weary than angry.  “Why?”

“I grew up hearing horror stories about Torchwood.  My mother was an operative.  She had nothing but hate and venom for all things Torchwood and Jack Harkness.  When she died, he tried reaching back out.  But I was full of her stories and hate.  It took a while to let him in, and even then I didn’t know how to trust him.”  She sighed.  “And all he ever wanted was to get to know us.”

Ianto nodded.  He felt like weeping.  No wonder Jack didn’t want any relationships.  The only ones he’d known had been completely fucked.  He sighed.  “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Maybe, when this is all over, we can make it official,” she smiled.

Ianto looked at her, and in an unguarded moment, she saw such sadness that she had to look away.  When she looked back, he had a bland expression and a small smile.  “That would be lovely,” he said, and she knew he had no idea of ever seeing her again, once this was done.

“What has he done?” she asked abruptly.

Ianto focused on finishing his tea.  “Doesn’t matter,” he said.  “I’m going to go freshen up, and then we can head to London,” he said to Harriet.

He was able to magic the wrinkles out of his suit and shirt and change his tie.  When he returned a few minutes later, his hair was immaculate, his clothing was neat, and he looked every inch the Torchwood operative.  “Harriet?” he held out an elbow to her.

Ianto apparated to a quiet spot near the palace, and after a short walk they arrived just in time for their appointment.  They were shown into a small (by palace standards, at any rate) parlour by the Queen’s personal secretary, then left to themselves until she arrived.  After the formalities had been satisfied, she turned to Harriet.  “It is not often that you call in old favors, my dear.  What has happened?”

“I feel it is my duty to inform you, ma’am,” Harriet began, exercising every formality to convey the gravity of the situation, “that your protection has been denied to one to whom it had previously been promised.”

The Queen’s eyes began to glitter angrily.  “And who has so chosen to defy me?”

“I cannot say, ma’am,” Harriet replied demurely.  “I only wished to bring this to your attention.  Mr. Jones can give you the particulars.”

Ianto jumped as though she had poked him.  The Queen did her best to hide her amusement.  Harriet certainly knew how to assert her neutrality.  Not that she would ever attempt to return to power, but she wanted to make it clear that this was not a power play.  Simply bringing an injustice to her friend’s attention.  She smiled kindly at Mr. Jones, hoping he would tell her what was happening.

He took a deep breath.  “Last evening, an attempt was made to destroy Torchwood.”  He explained how Jack had been killed and had come back to the hub with a bomb in his stomach.  How by chance they had discovered it and were able to dispose of it.  How they had captured the kill team and under questioning, obtained the information that John Frobisher had issued a blank page for Jack Harkness, along with three others.  And how Jack was the only survivor.

She stared at him closely.  “And how were you able to dispose of a live bomb?” she asked.

Ianto squirmed.  He looked at Harriet, angry at having been put in this position.  Harriet merely returned his stare, her face serene.  This was the Queen, for heaven’s sake.  Her raised eyebrow imparted that.  He sighed.  She was right, of course.  “I am a wizard, ma’am.”

“Ah.  I did wonder, after those bombings earlier in the year.”  She smiled at the surprise on Ianto’s face.  “Uncle Jack gave enough details to make one wonder, but not enough to confirm.  But two bombs, when there were other, much more strategic targets in the city.  I was convinced there had been more than the two.”

Ianto nodded.  “There were fifteen.  And the kill team will be blamed for the two that did go off.”

“Very well,” she nodded.  “The death toll last night would have been far higher.  Particularly once the rift manipulator was destroyed.”

Ianto chuckled.  “You have the right of it, ma’am.”

“John Frobisher, eh?  Well, he wouldn’t wipe his nose without Green’s go-ahead.  So no matter what deniability that snake has attempted to build around himself, he won’t be able to stand behind it.  But that is for a day when less pressing needs are at hand.  What can I do?”

Ianto blew out a breath.  “Well, we’ve been frozen out, for whatever reason.  UNIT is running point, and I don’t believe they are best equipped to do so.”

“So you would like for Torchwood to have a seat at the table.”

He tried to decide what Jack would want.  “It might be best if we stay as we are, ma’am.  Those at the table are already doing unsavory deeds.  We might be best if left to operate independently.”

“I see.  But for that, you need to be read in to what has happened, so far.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled.

“Well, they only give me high level briefings, but I do know that the aliens are called the 4-5-6, and they have sent building specifications to set up a habitable environment for a meeting of some sort.  Tomorrow,” she added, before he could ask.  “At Thames House.”

The tea arrived, and she added.  “I hope you can spare a few moments for tea.  You look like you could use some nourishment, Mr. Jones.”

He thanked her as graciously as he could.  He knew he looked like hell.  That legilimency into the minds of the aliens had made him ill.

“So,” she smiled.  “It’s been ages since I spoke to a wizard.  What was your favorite jinx, in school?”

Ianto laughed.  “ _Ducklifors_ ,” he answered.

“Ooh,” she giggled, then looked at Harriet.  “Transfiguring someone into a duck!  Oh, I would rather enjoy seeing that done.”   She looked speculative.  “Phillip annoyed me greatly at dinner, yesterday evening.  I don’t suppose you would be willing to give a demonstration, Mr. Jones?”

***

**Author's Note:**

> That has to be the worst summary, ever. Sorry about that.
> 
> And I acknowledge here that the Queen calling him "Uncle Jack" and him calling her "Lizzie" is not my idea. I've seen "Uncle Jack" in AwatereJones' entertaining Holmes Verse, and I believe Milady Dragon's brilliant Dragon Verse has Jack calling the Queen "Lizzie". Hope there are no hard feelings for borrowing the concept - it just fits too well, and there's already a backstory brewing in my brain. I'm happy to edit if there are objections, though.
> 
> Also, the crack ending couldn't be helped, especially after watching "The Crown". Much as I love Matt Smith, well... I am amused by the idea of the Queen at least asking that Prince Phillip be turned into a duck, for the afternoon. :)
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading!


End file.
